


I Don't Love You

by tangerinecoffee



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 16:16:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9499772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangerinecoffee/pseuds/tangerinecoffee
Summary: "What happened?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Late night drabble. 
> 
> This is not my usual fluff.
> 
> I just feel so lonely these days and I happened to come across this very lovely song by Urban Zakapa.

There was nothing left between them. Not a single thing they could say to even ease any pain that the other might be feeling. The tears had dried up a long time ago. Their memories of warm summers and sweet autumns long forgotten.

Nothing really was left, but Minho still found himself leaning on the rails of an unpopular bridge, near the outskirts of Seoul, waiting for the one man he made himself believe as a memoir of a long time ago.

 

**I Don’t Love You**

_Urban Zakapa_

 

_What should I say?_

_Where do I start?_

_I’m only hanging my head_

_You’re looking at me_

_In this awkward silence_

 

Minho pulled the red scarf tighter around his neck, watching as clouds of breaths puff out of his chapped lips. These days the band had been busy, too busy for his liking that he had barely enough time to take his personal ghosts into matter. Last year – they thought 2016 will be a better year but everything just went downhill after those first months. And he found it really hard to believe but he, himself, can’t really explain what happened.

It’s like watching a withering branch slowly peeling off the trunk, it’s eerily hypnotizing, because he did nothing but watch as gravity slowly pulled it down.  Why did he just watch it? Maybe because he knew he can’t just simply staple that same branch back no matter how hard he tried.

“You’re here early.”  

Minho thought those TV dramas was wrong. That time suddenly going slower or the distant chirping of unknown birds was nothing but fiction.

But apparently, when he lifted his gaze to see who greeted him, he was wrong.

“Hi,” He answered dumbly. He didn’t hear his voice broke. Minho convinced himself that he did not. Taehyun was in his mahogany-colored coat, hands buried inside his pockets. “And I’m not. You’re just late.”

His eyes followed the steps Taehyun took. Maybe he was holding his breath, like they were on glass and he was afraid that that glass would break, so Minho didn’t breathe.

“Why are we here?”

Minho heard the faint sound of the rails as it clashed against Taehyun’s knuckles, his eyes shooting up just in time to catch Taehyun biting his lip down to hide the sudden pain.  “You made me come here.” Minho answered, eyes nailed on Taehyun’s bare face, slowly being drowned in memories of long ago that he thought he already locked away.

“What happened?” Taehyun asked again, this time barely a whisper, and Minho was lucky that he managed to catch it.

_I don’t love you_

_I’m sure you already know_

_Even when I see you shedding tears_

_My heart doesn’t ache anymore_

_I don’t love you_

_There’s no other reason_

_I don’t even want to say_

_I’m sorry or forgive me_

_That’s all_

_This is how I really feel_

 

He sighed, finally letting the glass break but feeling no crumbling down his feet but swirls in his stomach. Minho turned back to rest his forearms on the same railing, a few inches away from Taehyun, waiting for the other to somehow back away but no movement followed. So Minho started staring across the wide river below the bridge, thinking of endless possibilities, of lost opportunities, of unseen consequences. “I don’t know.”

None of them talked after that, for there was nothing to talk about. Taehyun lifted his chin up, gawking at the open sky – clear, pale blue sky as he slowly closed his eyes. Minho, on the other hand, shifted his gaze sideways, looking at the man beside him – confused, lonely man as he slowly felt the beginning of tears prickling the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision.

He wanted to remember Taehyun as someone precious. Someone wrecked. Someone imperfect.

A beautiful wreckage, meant to be left alone in the mystery of the ocean.

 


End file.
